A Closed Book
by HP-Forever-XX
Summary: "Scorpius makes no comment to reveal his feelings, but then again, Albus expects nothing else. The boy always has his guard up. Scorpius Malfoy is a closed book. A closed book with serious commitment issues." Rated T for slash pairing.


**A Closed Book**

There is an ache in Scorpius Malfoy's heart as he settles down at the Slytherin table for breakfast that morning. The sunlight is streaming down through the windows of the Great Hall, bouncing off of the silver goblet he's miserably staring into, and yet the weather is incapable of enhancing his mood in the slightest.

He pins the reason for his heartache on to two vital causes: First, he currently finds himself suffering through his fifth breakup of that month alone. And second, he is finally starting to understand why that might be.

It isn't long before Albus Potter is striding over to the Slytherin table. Scorpius allows his body to heave with the force of his sigh before the boy approaches. The Gryffindor boy is everything he needs right now—and everything he _doesn't_ need, as well.

"Scorpius?" Albus asks in a concerned voice before Scorpius can even ready himself for the encounter.

"Morning," he grunts to the Gryffindor in response. He stares at the dregs of his pumpkin juice, swirling them around the bottom of his goblet so as to avoid looking at Albus at all costs.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep."

Scorpius can almost feel Albus' narrowed eyes piercing him. It's highly intimidating, and the frustrating thing is that Albus will never know the kind of effect it has on Scorpius. Though maybe that's for the better.

"You're lying," Albus states calmly. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

He settles himself down at the Slytherin table before Scorpius can stop him, meaning he's now forced to look up and properly acknowledge him. The effect is immediate; the ache in his heart deepens.

A few angry hisses are emitted further down the table, but Albus ignores them. Everybody knows he and Albus have been best friends since the day they met, much to a lot of people's disgust. A Potter and a Malfoy getting along? They come from different worlds, different houses. It had come as a shock to no one that Albus and Scorpius had followed the traditions of their ancestors and been sorted into Gryffindor and Slytherin, respectively. In fact, people should have put money on it.

It had, however, come as a great shock to find how quickly and how intensely the two became best friends, given the nature of their fathers' well-known feudal relationship when they were at Hogwarts themselves.

Scorpius tries not to dwell on his father's prejudices too much. Albus' friendship was invaluable, and always would be.

And even though the friendship had spanned the whole five years the two boys had been at Hogwarts, it apparently still renders some of the onlookers unhappy. Scorpius Malfoy was well-respected in Slytherin house; Albus Potter is decidedly not.

"Nothing's wrong," Scorpius lies again.

Albus has settled himself onto the bench on the opposite side of the table. There is nowhere for Scorpius to look other than directly at him.

"Scorpius," Albus says sulkily, "I'm your best friend—I can see a mile off that something's clearly getting to you. Why do you think I came over?"

Scorpius doesn't answer. He instead busies himself by refilling his goblet. _Pumpkin juice,_ he scoffs in his mind. Right now, despite the early hour, he can only long for something a little more numbing. _Firewhisky_ , he muses—now _that's_ something he could really go for.

"Relationship trouble?" Albus prompts when Scorpius makes no reply. "Something to do with school?" he continues to guess. "Your family? Wait, let me guess," he pipes up with a teasing grin. "Don't tell me the Holyhead Harpies are bottom of the Quidditch League? I know you have a weird obsession with that team, but—"

" _Relationship troubles_ ," Scorpius repeats in a drawling voice, cutting Albus short. "You realise you actually need to _be_ in a relationship to experience any trouble in it?"

"But you—"

"I am currently single," Scorpius interrupts, taking another swig of his pumpkin juice like it's the most casual thing in the world. "And for the record," he murmurs into his goblet, "the Harpies are currently _sixth_ on the ladder _._ "

Albus shakes his head in disbelief. "Single _again?_ " he chastises, ignoring the Quidditch comment. "What happened this time?"

Scorpius racks his brain for a witty response. Oh, if only Albus knew the truth. "She reminded me too much of my mother," Scorpius settles on, looking highly amused by the concept.

Albus narrows his eyes again. "Your mother?" he asks suspiciously. "In what way, exactly?"

Again, Scorpius takes the time to construct a witty, yet believable reply. "Her name."

"Her _name?"_

"Aurelia," Scorpius drawls. "Astoria—very similar."

"That's a ridiculous reason!" Albus protests, suddenly angry. "Seriously, Scorpius, what is _wrong_ with you? You realise your relationships are getting shorter and shorter each time, and your reasons for breaking up with these girls are getting even more ridiculous!"

"What's your point?"

"What's my _point?"_ Albus snaps. He checks himself and suddenly calms down, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. There's no point arguing with Scorpius when he seems so disheartened. Albus wants to support him as he always has done. It's just, the stubborn Slytherin boy makes it so damn hard at times.

"I'm sorry; I'm just in shock," Albus apologises.

Scorpius makes no comment to reveal his feelings, but then again, Albus expects nothing else. The boy always has his guard up. Scorpius Malfoy is a closed book.

A closed book with serious commitment issues.

"Have you ever considered that you might have a problem, Scorpius?" Albus asks gently.

"A problem?" Scorpius repeats, amused by the notion. "I'm sure my flaws are in great abundance, but I wouldn't necessarily call this a _problem."_

"You have had _four_ girlfriends this month alone—"

"Five."

"— _five_ girlfriends this month alone! And I'm almost certain you've dated my entire family." Albus offers Scorpius a soft smile, but there is clear concern beneath.

Scorpius is suddenly angry at Albus, and angry at himself. "Not your _whole_ family," he says sulkily. He's looking pointedly at the boy sat opposite him, but Albus notices nothing.

"I really thought Rose might have been the one for you," Albus sighs reminiscently. "I'll admit, I was a little angry about Lily—she was far too young for you! But _Rose_ ," he sighs. "The two of you were so good together! I really thought you'd had something special."

Scorpius remembers Rose Weasley well. She _was_ special to him and had been his longest and most committed relationship by a long shot. But there is only so far Scorpius is willing to live a lie.

"And then there was Molly, and Lucy, and Roxy, and—"

Scorpius listens to Albus list his female cousins, but zones out after a while. He barely even remembers some of them. He loses himself in his own thoughts—his own emotions—all the while sipping the pumpkin juice from his goblet. He's starting to loathe the taste of pumpkin…

"Still haven't dated your _whole_ family," Scorpius mumbles once Albus has finished. "I haven't dated _you._ "

Albus is laughing before Scorpius can get hung up on what he's just said. The sound of his laughter pierces Scorpius' chest. He gulps down his pumpkin juice as though trying to drown the pain.

"True," Albus acknowledges with a smirk.

"Why does it even matter how many girls I date?" Scorpius snaps, refusing to let the jovial atmosphere prevail. "I've not found the right one yet—there's no point committing myself to someone who isn't worth it."

The laughter has drained from Albus' face to be replaced with his former concern. "It's not healthy, Scorpius," he criticises. "It's not fair on any of these girls, and it's not fair on _you._ Look how sad you are," he points out. "Look how unsatisfied it leaves you—how much it drains you."

Again, Scorpius is angry at himself. He knows why he does it. Or at least, he _thinks_ he knows. He's been fighting it for a while, but it becomes more apparent with every failed relationship. Sooner or later he's going to have to accept the truth, and sooner or later he's going to have to tell that truth to Albus.

But the Gryffindor boy is so naïve, so guarded about it all. Scorpius has no way of knowing how he'll react, and this alone scares him more than anything.

Scorpius waves a dismissive hand. "You don't understand," he says weakly.

Albus counters him with fierce determination. "I'm your best friend," he states firmly. "Perhaps if you opened up to me then I'd be able to understand. I might be able to help you."

But Scorpius knows Albus can't help him, and Albus knows how unlikely it is that Scorpius will ever truly open up to him. The boy is, after all, a closed book. He doesn't let anybody in—hence the ever-growing list of failed relationships.

"I can't," Scorpius says defiantly, trying to seem far more interested in the markings on the goblet than he really is. He can see the distorted reflection of himself. It both fascinates and saddens him. He himself is no more than that tainted reflection—not a true image of the heart that lies within.

Albus is so close to smacking the goblet from his hand, it's unreal. Why won't Scorpius just _look_ at him? He expected as much, and yet it still fills him with anger. "I don't understand why you can't just open up to me," he says sulkily.

"You'd never see me in the same way again," Scorpius explains coolly.

"What makes you think that?"

"I just know."

"Scorpius, I have told you countless times. Do I need to spell it out to you? _I. Am. Your. Best. Friend!_ Nothing you could confess to me is going to change that! Whatever your issue is—your _need_ to have all these meaningless flings—I'm not going to judge you, and I'm not going to walk away from you. Trust me," he pleads.

His voice is so broken, so desperate, that Scorpius can't help but look up. "You really want to know?" he asks quietly.

Albus nods eagerly, helping himself to his own goblet of pumpkin juice. "I don't want to see you like this. Maybe if you talk about it you'll feel better."

Scorpius finds it unlikely, but maybe Albus has a point. Maybe he really wouldn't walk away from Scorpius after all. He supposes there's only one way to find out.

"Fine," Scorpius relents. "What, err, what exactly is it that you want to know?" he asks nervously.

"Well, for starters, why you fill your life with so many pointless relationships? I mean, I get it, girls are great and all that, but you seem to get so little satisfaction from it. There's nothing wrong with being a womaniser if you can pull it off," he says awkwardly, "and Merlin knows if anybody can then it's _you._ But even still"—he shrugs—"what is it? Have you just not found the right girl yet? Is that it?"

Scorpius steadies his shaking hands beneath the table. Albus takes another swig of pumpkin juice. "The reason I have indulged in so many girls," Scorpius begins, struggling to look Albus in the eye once more, "and why I've found myself unlucky in the pursuit of someone who makes me truly happy is because…" He takes a deep breath. "Because I'm not entirely sure it's a _girl_ I'm looking for."

Albus chokes so violently on his mouthful of pumpkin juice that it draws many an unhappy glare from the Slytherins further down the table. _"What?"_ he gasps, struggling for air.

"I'm not going to repeat it," Scorpius mumbles.

Albus can do nothing but stare at his best friend, totally aghast at his confession. He repeats the words in his mind, desperately searching for any other possible interpretation than the one he immediately jumped to. It's not that he has a problem with what he assumes Scorpius is revealing—it's just too huge a shock for his mind to properly grasp.

This is _Scorpius Malfoy._ Scorpius Malfoy, who has likely dated more girls in his five years at Hogwarts than any of the boys in their seventh year. Scorpius Malfoy, who hops from one relationship to another like he can't get enough of it. Scorpius Malfoy, who _adores_ pursuing girls at every opportunity he can— who positively lives and breathes girls!

"Are you… sure?" Albus asks uncertainly, starting to recover from his unceremonious spit take.

"Quite," Scorpius says firmly, though still without being able to look his best friend in the eye. "I think I've had enough attempts to realise that…"

Albus is still blinking in confusion. This is just all so _surreal._ Never for a second has that possibility entered his mind, and yet, the more he thinks about it, the more he realises it makes perfect sense. "When?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Maybe for a while now," he admits. "I just… didn't want to believe it."

"Why—why keep dating around then?" Albus shakily inquires, at least some of the initial shock starting to subside. "With the girls, I mean."

"I wanted to be sure."

"And are you?" Albus asks, quite forgetting Scorpius has already once confirmed he's certain.

The Slytherin offers a meek nod, still refusing to look the other boy in the eye. He fears his reaction. On the face of it, Albus seems so calm. A little dazed, but calm nonetheless. But if Scorpius searches the depths of his best friend's deep green eyes, he fears he'll find not acceptance, but hatred. And to do so would destroy him. His heart is aching enough as it is.

"Well," Albus says, running a shaking hand through his hair. It's a lot to take in. "There's nothing wrong with that," he tries to say with a warm, reassuring smile. If only Scorpius would actually look at him and see the honesty in his eyes. "I'm sure you'll find someone who's right for you. Someone who actually fills your heart with happiness."

At this, Scorpius does look up, straight into Albus' endless green eyes. "I think I already have," he confesses in no more than a breathy whisper.

Albus is only grateful he hasn't taken another sip of pumpkin juice. There is nothing to choke on and yet he feels his chest contract, a new wave of shock engulfing him. "You— _what?"_ he struggles to say. But it's clear to him. There is an undeniable sincerity in Scorpius' stare that feels like it's piercing his heart, piercing his very soul.

This, above all, is what dazes Albus the most.

It is not the confession—the words that have passed from his best friend's lips—but the way he all of a sudden feels. Some new emotion seems to have unlocked within him. His stomach feels light, and his heart feels jittery.

 _This_ is not expected.

Perhaps, if he really thinks about it, he can understand what Scorpius is trying to tell him—what must have been clear if he'd only opened his eyes to the possibility. But this new feeling that persists within him is not something he was expecting at all.

Albus is astonished to find it doesn't nearly frighten him as much as he would have assumed it would. What's even more overwhelming is that he finds he might actually feel a sense of unanticipated delight at such a feeling.

He is consumed by the feeling. He is consumed by the idea of what has just begun and what he might have just been offered. He finds, to great amazement, that he wants this more than anything he's ever wanted before.

To finally delve into the pages of the closed book that is Scorpius Malfoy.

* * *

 **Originally written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 3—Round 4**

 **Team:** Holyhead Harpies  
 **Position:** Captain  
 **Task:** Portray a given emotion without mentioning the actual word (surprise)


End file.
